


Punks Not Dead (Punks Sleeping Drunk)

by jedi_bitch



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU- 70s, AU- Punk Rock, F/M, Family Issues, Good boy Obi-wan, Meet-Cute, Music, Punk Maul, Punk!Reader - Freeform, Quickies, Reader Insert, Recreational Drug Use, Sort Of, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29298810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedi_bitch/pseuds/jedi_bitch
Summary: Reader is angry at the state of the world and her home life. After forming a band with some fellow rockers, Reader's life gets interesting.Reader-Insert (no y/n). Explicit for future chapters.
Relationships: Darth Maul/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	1. Beat on the Brat

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this first chapter is basically all exposition, so im sorry lmao  
> The next chapter is where things will really start.  
> Also, yeah, I'm super into classic punk, and the cultural/historical significance is very interesting to me and all...  
> Any song requests, hmu on tumblr (jedi-bitch.tumblr.com)  
> I'll update when I get the chance, but I'm gonna try to upload at least once a week.  
> Also I'm assuming Dooku's name is Adan.  
> Anyway, enjoy.  
> (Beat on the Brat- Ramones)

_Beat on the Brat…_

Maybe it started when you were young, and your father wasn’t around.

Maybe it was when he came home, and all your expectations for who he would be were wrong.

But, really, it was when he left again and all that came back were dog tags and a folded-up flag.

And the real kicker was when your mother remarried.

Adan Dooku, what kind of military name was that? You were only fourteen when he came into your life, trying to replace the drunken image of what a father was in your head. You hated him, because even though your real dad was broken and mean, you loved him.

With Adan, came your stepbrother. Obi-wan, a surprisingly flowery name, was fifteen, and in the same grade, but _so_ mature and _so_ smart. Whenever he was praised, you rolled your eyes.

Everything about your new stepdad screamed militarist. From his stern, weathered expression to his sharp haircut. He even had your mother freshly press his dress shirts once a week. He was strict, and expected obedience. It probably came from a place of love, wanting to raise productive members of society, but it only made you angrier at the world.

You could remember the wedding. Obi-wan was the prim and proper looking ring-bearer, and you were a _flower girl_ , of all things. When your aunt was helping you get dressed, you “accidentally” ripped your tights and forgot your dress shoes. You led your mom down the aisle with bare feet. It wasn’t much, but it quelled your natural want to rebel.

You never referred to Adan as “dad”. Instead, you called him every other name in the book- Adan, pig, fucking hawk, _literal_ motherfucker. You were grounded when you swore. Your stepdad would stand in your doorway and explain that no matter how you felt, you needed to be respectful of your elders and hold your tongue. He didn’t care if you liked him or not.

It made you sick when you learned that he had never seen actual combat. He was a retired strategist. He just sent people like your dad to their deaths. You decided you would never look at him with any type of respect, even if it made your mother sad.

Your relationship with Obi-wan was strained at first.

You thought he was just like his dad, disciplined and proper. For the most part, he was, but he was more sensitive, even understanding of what you were going through.

You and Obi-wan bonded over the loss of a parent, and the awkwardness of suddenly having a new family. He tried to make sure you at least felt comfortable while settling into his house- now _our_ house.

As you got older, the two of you had a fairly normal stepsibling relationship. You were friends but got on each other’s nerves quite a bit. It was mostly you that started all the trouble, though.

The summer you moved in was when you met Obi-wans friend, Anakin.

Quickly, Anakin became _your_ friend, too. He was funny and outgoing, and listened to cool music.

He teased you sometimes, ruffling your hair when he walked past, telling Obi-wan that his lame little ‘step-sis’ wanted to hang out with him. He always gave you a grin when he said that, though, before waving his hand, gesturing for you to come with them.

They invited you every time, except when they wanted to talk about girls or whatever it was they did in secret. Boys were so simple, you would think.

One time, when you were seventeen, your mom found a joint in the bathroom, and told your stepdad. It was yours for sure, you had forgotten it on the windowsill after smoking with the shower running.

You were sure you would be grounded for months, maybe even sent to a boarding school.

But when Adan called you downstairs, arms crossed, Obi-wan said that it had been Anakin’s, and that he knew that _you_ would never do drugs. Anakin had been over earlier, he said, it must have been him.

Adan grumbled and said something about why he never liked that burn-out or his parents but let you off the hook.

_Beat on the Brat…_

The guitar your _real_ dad had gotten you sat in your closet, untouched for a while. You didn’t have an amp or anything to plug it into, which is what you told yourself was the reason for not playing.

But after one particularly awful screaming match with your stepdad, you stormed upstairs and played the chords that you could remember. The next day you went to the library after school, even though you had been grounded, to check out some ‘how-to’ books.

Your mom was actually happy to see you take up a good hobby, even if Adan hated the type of music you were trying to learn. He wished you had taken up a more classical instrument, like Obi-wan had. _He_ played the double bass in the school orchestra.

Anakin grinned when he found out you played, and your teen heart swelled just a bit, “You sing?”

You shrugged, “Yeah, I mean, I’ve been working on some lyrics and stuff.”

“’Cuz we’ve been looking for a singer for a while…,” Anakin rubbed the back of his neck. Obi-wan rolled his eyes.

Obi-wan would never tell you, but they had both agreed that you were very pretty.

“Man, your stepsister’s kind of hot,” Anakin grinned after they closed to the door to Obi-wan’s room, “You ever think-,”

“Ugh, stop.” Obi-wan would roll his eyes every time Anakin brought you up.

“Dude, she’s a real piece of work,” He was teasing Obi-wan, “You can’t tell me you don’t think she’s hot.”

Obi-wan would blush, and try not to think about the small crush he had developed, “I mean… yeah, she’s not _not_ pretty, but-,”

“Gross, man, that’s your stepsister,” Anakin would interrupt, laughing. Even though they were friends, Anakin was almost always a dick.

_Beat on the Brat with a baseball bat…_

Senior year was when you started a band. You were the singer and second guitarist, Anakin was the lead guitarist, and your friend, Ahsoka, played drums. You tried to convince Obi-wan to play the bass guitar, but he just shook his head, saying he needed to focus on college admissions. So, you asked Anakin’s new girlfriend, Padme, and she started learning. She picked it up quickly, but she didn’t really care for rock’n’roll.

You played out of Padme’s garage. Turns out, her parents were both retired musicians, and were incredibly chill.

Padme’s mom offered to give you a cool haircut, and she shaved half your head. You loved how it looked.

Your own mother cried when you came home with half the hair that you had had. She ran her fingers through the messy locks that remained, asking why you would do such a thing. You reminded her it was just hair and would grow back.

Your stepfather, however, told you it made you look like a hussy desperate for attention. You told him that you were.

Obi-wan came to you later that night and told you he happened to like it.

Seeing Adan’s face the next week after Padme’s mom helped dye your hair red was one of the best nights of your teen life.

_What can you do? What can you do?_

The songs you played were simple, but as you all got better, so did the music.

You handed out tapes with handwritten song titles during lunch period. You felt like a grown woman, when boys started noticing you and asking if they could call your house later.

Obi-wan tried to stay focused on his studies, but the way some of the boys were starting to look at you made his stomach turn. He convinced himself it was just him wanting to be protective and nothing more.

The year you all graduated was when things changed. You were all adults now, with future prospects and dreams.

The war in Vietnam was coming to a close, and less and less young men were being drafted. It was still a possibility, but it became less and less likely with each passing month. Anakin wasn’t worried about it anymore.

Obi-wan was going off to university in the UK. He _had_ worked very hard for it, and you were proud of him, if not a bit jealous. He wanted to study Philosophy and Teaching.

Ahsoka was going off to an all-girls school in Boston. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt right to her.

Padme was staying local but started studying political sciences at the closest university.

Anakin and you were staying behind, though. Neither of you really had any aspirations. You wanted to keep making music, but the grind of a minimum wage job was bringing you down.

Your mom kept telling you that she was worried and wished you would ask for help if you needed it. Adan, though, got considerably less patient with you, which you didn’t think was possible.

When the two of you were caught in the basement, passing a bong, your stepdad wanted to kick you out, and your mother cried. So, she decided to give you two options: one, they’d call the police and tell them about the two of you “selling dope”, or two, go live with your Aunt in California and no one would know about the weed.

Obviously, you couldn’t let your friend get narced on. The local police already knew you two were trouble (the last time you saw him, you had snuck into the movie theater through the emergency exit) but were just waiting for an excuse to do you in.

The night before you left, you had snuck to Anakin’s house. You smoked one last joint with him and cried when you got back home.

Despite that, you kept a straight face at the airport, rolling your eyes when your mom said she would miss you. Adan said he’d miss you too, but the tone of his voice told you otherwise.

_With a brat like that always on your back…_

Surprisingly, your aunt was pretty cool. She was a florist, with a successful storefront, _and_ she lived just outside of Los Angeles. You worked at her shop during the week, sometimes delivering to restaurants or businesses.

That’s how you met Asajj. A secret admirer had ordered a bouquet of roses to her place of work, a tattoo parlor a few blocks from the shop.

“Oh, great,” She rolled her eyes, the owner of the shop looking on, “You can keep them.”

You grinned, leaning against the doorframe, “For me? When’s the first date?”

You became fast friends after that. During the week, you both worked, but on the weekends, you went into the city.

Rock’n’roll was still in, but there was this new subgenre that felt so angry and disgusted at the current state of the world. Punk Rock had been spreading from London to the states for a few years, but it was now getting quite a bit of attention. You _adored_ everything about it. The anger, the fashion, the people. In America particularly, it was anger at the wars that had been waged in the past 50 years.

The scene in LA was surprisingly big, so you would hit the dingiest clubs playing the loudest, angriest music you both could find, and sleep wherever the party would bring you.

One such club was where you met Maul.

If punk rock were a single person, it would have been him. Red and black make-up covered any exposed skin, and he had some very interesting body-mods on his head. Maybe some of it was tattoos?

You were both drunk and egged on by the music blaring in your ears. When he was accidentally shoved into you, spilling both your beers, you grabbed the collar of his shirt, “Watch where you’re going, dick.”

“Bite me,” He yelled over the music, eyes lowering. Your shirt was soaked in beer, clinging to your chest tightly. It was uncommon among you and your peers to wear bras.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You shoved him away from you, and he fell back into the arms of a very tall man.

He looked similar to the black-and-red painted man, but with a sickly yellow-looking pattern.

You squared up, hands balling into fists, and Maul pushed himself off his friend, puffing out his chest.

He grinned when your chests touched, and looked like he was about to say something, before Asajj put her hands on your shoulders, “Hey, you found him!”

“What?” You turned around, your head spun slightly. Maul took a step back.

“The guys I told you we were meeting?” Asajj pointed to the two men, now standing behind you. She was shouting over the music, and handed you another beer, “This is Maul and Savage. Those tattoos, I did them, remember? They said they play music.”

You blinked, staring at the boys for a second, before smiling, “Oh, right…,” You took a long sip from your new drink, then extended your hand, and Maul took it in his, “Far out, what’s good, man?”

After a few short months, you were ready for your first gig.

By ’74, a year and a half after forming “The Shadow Collective”, you were a popular local band, playing at any venue that requested you.

And thus started, what you could only hope to be, a long and successful career.

_What can you lose?_


	2. I'm Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has a quickie with Maul, then makes a phone call she had been avoiding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some light Maul smut in this one...  
> also sorry ur mom and aunt have very normal names lmao  
> hmu at jedi-bitch.tumblr.com
> 
> (I'm Stranded- The Saints)

**_Like a snake calling on the phone…_ **

**_I’ve got no time to be alone…_ **

Grabbing a lighter from the table, you watched yourself in the wall-covering mirror above the long vanity. You flicked a cigarette from the box and took it between your lips, lighting the end and taking a drag.

“What time is it?” Asajj asked, grabbing at your arm. You wore a cheap, black watch, that she squinted to read. She groaned, “It’s two A.M.”

“Weren’t we supposed to end around midnight?” You asked, sliding down into a poorly upholstered, velvet chair. The back was stiff, so you slide down the seat until you were comfortable.

“That’s why _you_ have the watch,” Maul lightly smacked the back of your head as he walked past, going for his own cigarettes.

You rolled your eyes, sitting a bit straighter.

You looked back to your reflection. You were drenched in sweat and booze, and your usually loose tank top clung to your skin; not that it left much to the imagination anyway with its low neck and ripped off sleeves.

Your black eyeliner had melted into dark streaks down your cheek. At least it looked intimidating. With a few tissues, you started to wipe your face, getting most, but not all of it. As opposed to your three bandmates, you wore very little make-up, most of the time.

You were all exhausted. Three nights straight of performing the way that you all did took a _lot_ of energy and alcohol.

After a couple minutes of just sitting, you stood, grabbing a fresh cigarette and tucking it behind your ear, “Alright, I’m gonna go start packing.” You stopped at the doorway, resting against the door frame, “Anyone maybe want to help?”

Silence.

“Thanks, guys,” You sigh, turning to actually leave this time.

“Well, I have to go get our cut,” Savage defended, rising to his feet. He always got the money, mostly because he was a giant of a man and his voice was always so threatening, even when he wasn’t trying to be (which wasn’t _that_ often).

You nodded, and Maul watched his brother push passed you, “Good idea, pal. Anyone else?”

“Oh, you’ll do fine without me,” Asajj didn’t even look up from the magazine she was lazily flipping through. Asajj was the most stubborn of you all, there was no convincing her on most things.

With a deep breath, you turned to Maul. He peered at you from his lounged position, taking up the whole couch, “I’m gonna finish my drink first.”

“You guys are the fucking worst.”

**_A subway light it's dirty reflection…_ **

**_I'm lost babe I got no direction…_ **

Back on the stage, you started untangling wires and thick cords. The floor was mostly cleared, aside from a few stragglers and employees. You notice two men conversing, occasionally raking their eyes up your body.

After a few minutes, they actually walked over, and helped themselves over the edge of the stage.

They both had greasy liberty spikes sticking from their scalps, and silver piercings covered their faces, “Hey, sunshine,” One of them saunters over, “You looked good up there earlier.”

You raised your brows at them in acknowledgement, nodding curtly, before turning back to the crates you were working on.

“Well… you want some help?” They still had half-empty beer bottles.

With a patronizing, but sultry tone, you looked up at the men, “Think you guys are strong enough?” You bit your lower lip, placing one of the guitars in its case. When they just grinned, looking at each other, you spoke sweetly, “That drumkit isn’t gonna move itself.”

Maul watched you from the shadowy hallway, arms crossed. He _was_ going to help, but he wanted to see what else you would do.

As the boys walked away, you rolled your eyes.

They stared at you wolfishly as you told them what to grab and where to bring it. With two crates of pedals and cords in your arms, you brought the last of the gear to the van. You placed them by the van while your two helpers started loading things into the back. You took the cigarette from behind your ear and lit it, before holding it in your lips.

Maul loved watching you smoke. The way your lips press so gently together, haphazardly hanging the death stick crookedly. You always looked so tough, he thought, leather jacket, hands in your back pockets, smoke blowing from your nose and lips. He grinned to himself, knowing that he could ruin that fuck-off expression of yours.

You forced a smile at the two men as they jumped from the back of the van, “I’ll get the rest, thanks guys.” You tried to dismiss them, but they both stopped, watching you.

“You should come back to our place,” They took a small step toward you, “Could have a good time.” One of them tapped his nose, winking at you.

“Ah,” You nodded slowly, “Yeah, I’ve got my own. I’ll pass, fellas.”

You were starting to feel crowded, back against the wall, “C’mon baby doll, it’ll be fun. Loosen up a little.” He pulls a little tin from his pocket, “You want some now?”

You took a deep, put-upon breath, “Fuck off.” You shoved your shoulder into one of them as you forced yourself between them, walking back to the van.

“Cunt,” One of them scoffed, as they started walking away, “You bitch too much anyway.”

You were too tired to deal with their bruised egos, so you started packing the last of the instruments and boxes, bending over.

As Maul finally decides to come help you, one of the boys was walking past you. The blue-haired man slapped your ass so hard that the cigarette fell from your lips.

You spun on your worn-out docs, one hand instinctively reaching for the stinging flesh, soothing the pain through your tight jeans. Without the constant nicotine pouring into your lungs, you felt weary and tired. You shook your head and turned back to the van, “Yeah, go on, fuck off.”

You were content with just getting the night over with and getting home.

But before you could bend to lift another box, you snapped back up, catching the moment that Maul winds his arm back, and throws his fist into the man’s face.

Your heart leapt, seeing the blood from the man’s nose drip down his face, and a bit clung to Maul’s knuckles.

Maul hit him again, with his other hand, knocking the air out of his target.

He cupped his nose and looked to you for a quick second. When he saw the scowl across your lips, he turns and runs away. Maul was about to follow him, but you ran up and grabbed his arm.

“Dude,” You tugged at him, “It’s fine, who gives a shit.” You lifted his bloody fist to examine it more closely.

Maul watched intently as your pupils dilated and the way you bite down on your lip, harder than usual. His face turned from a calm fury to a curious grin.

“You’re gonna get us in trouble if you keep doing that,” You stubbornly tried to seem disinterested, “ _Or_ you’ll get yourself killed.”

You and Maul had an interesting relationship. First, he _is_ your friend, but secondly, he’s an occasional fuck. Neither of you were able to voice any form of commitment, but you did keep coming back to each other on lonely nights.

For punk rockers, the four of you had a pretty “free-love” attitude. You had slept with your other two friends, as well.

For Asajj, you were both drunk and listening to a new record. Another time, Maul joined you and her.

Savage only happened once or twice- you couldn’t remember. It was almost certainly drug-fueled, though, because you couldn’t sit down for the days afterwards. Just what he’s into, you guessed with a shrug.

You always ended up with Maul, though. He was the one that you always went back to, and vice versa. Again, though, commitment wasn’t a word either of you knew.

“Maybe I want to cause trouble,” Maul gave a smug grin, taking a step closer to you. He examined your face as he pressed you against the side of the van.

You swallowed, putting your hands against his chest. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh.

Before you could speak, Maul pressed his lips against yours harshly. His teeth clattered against yours and you mentally cringed but threw yourself into him. His tongue instantly pressed into your mouth. You both tasted like tobacco.

He was moving quickly, one hand running down your side, searching for flesh to hold onto, while his other hand started to undo your studded belt.

His lips moved down to your neck, biting you hard. You turned your head to the open door that led back inside, “Someone might-,” A hand covered your mouth and you shivered.

“Shh, we’ll be quick, I promise,” He speaks into your ear, his hot breath melting you beneath him.

You nodded, excitedly reaching for his jeans, struggling with the button.

Nothing stops him as he shoves his hand into the front of your panties, running his fingers over your wet cunt, “Fuck… You liked when I punched that prick, didn’t you? You’re so fucking wet…”

You nod, and he removes his hands from your pants and face. You whine ever so quietly, hands still working his jeans. Maul shoves your hands away and does it himself, undoing his pants just enough to pull his cock out.

He grabs a handful of your hair, one hand squeezing at your flank when he spun you, pressing your cheek against the cool metal.

He wastes no time, pulling your pants down to your thighs, and pulling your panties to the side. You half-laugh and half-moan as he shoves his cock into you. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, but the fast pace he sets off the bat leaves your mouth hanging open.

“Fuck, baby,” He hisses, his fingers dig into your ass as he holds your hips steady, “You’re so fucking tight.”

The cool air against your skin made it feel all the better, knowing that anyone could come around the corner or out the door and see you. You wondered who you’d rather have walk in on you.

For the first time, in a long time, you let yourself think about home. You don’t know why, maybe you were sobering up or over-exhausted. But you couldn’t help but think about Obi-wan opening your door to find you getting absolutely railed by the insatiable beast that is Maul. The way you imagine his cheeks would turn so red.

You shook the fantasy from your head when Obi-wan shifted to Adan. He would berate you so awfully if _he_ was the one that walked in.

“Shh,” Maul chuckled through his heavy breathing, “God, you’re gonna get us caught, baby.” He didn’t let up, though, continuing to fuck you fast and hard.

You didn’t even realize you had been making any noise, until he pointed it out. You closed your mouth, biting down on your lip.

A bead of sweat dripped onto your back, and you knew Maul was close to finishing. You felt disappointed, but he did say it would be quick, after all.

You quickly started to rub your clit, fingers pressing into your panties. “Fuck, Maul.”

“Yeah, rub your wet little cunt,” He was coming undone, “I’m gonna come so fucking deep inside you.”

His words pushed you over the edge of your orgasm, and you tightened even more around the cock inside you. You felt all the tension in your body relax slightly, and your head tilted back onto his shoulder.

A shiver ran down your spine when you felt him come. He held your hips in a bruising grip, keeping himself fully inside of you. His ragged breathing tickled your neck.

He pulled out and quickly fixed your panties, before too much of him dripped out of you, and then left you to pull your pants up. He put himself back together quickly.

The side of your face that was pressed against the van was red, and you cleared your throat.

“Classy,” Asajj crossed her arms, walking out the back door of the club and to the passenger side of the van.

Maul grinned, sliding one of his hands into your back pocket. The growing wet spot between your legs was cooling off quickly, making it more noticeable to you.

Asajj looked at the two of you expectantly, as if you needed instructions to follow, “Why don’t you go get Savage so we can go?”

**_You are lost, your mind is stuck in a whirl…_ **

**_Yeah honey such a stupid girl…_ **

You were laying with your head in Maul’s lap and legs stretched over Savage’s thighs, sitting between them on the leather couch. Asajj was sprawled out on the floor, arm over her eyes to block out the light from the TV. It was just static at this point in the night.

Everything felt still and quiet, something that only came to you all during times like these. It made your vicious looking friends seem soft and serene. You drifted into a drunken slumber to the soft humming of the television.

When the shrill bell of the telephone split through your skull, everyone but Savage jolted awake. It took you a minute to catch your bearings, the headache pounding behind your eyes distracting you.

You blinked a few times, looking around. Asajj was looking at you and called your name. When you didn’t respond, she repeated herself with a tone of frustration. “Dude, it’s for you. Come on.”

“Alright, alright…,” You rubbed your head, pushing off of Maul’s thighs, while he also forced his eyes to open, “Fuck…,” you rolled your eyes, speaking under your breath.

Savage was snoring loudly, so you nudged him with your foot as you stood.

You grinned at Asajj as she handed you the phone, and she rolled her eyes, stalking back to the living room.

“Hello?” Your voice was hoarse and tired.

“It’s Carol, honey,” There was silence as you zoned-out, “Your aunt? Hello?”

“Yeah, yeah,” You snapped out of your own head, “I’m here. What’s up?”

“I’ve been trying to reach you for the past two days,” She sounded concerned but a bit distracted, “Did I wake you? Christ Almighty, kid, it’s four in the afternoon.”

“We were working, Carol,” You cringed, rubbing the bridge of your nose with your free hand, “I was going to come back tomorrow morning and help at the shop, ok?”

Carol sighed into the receiver, and you could tell there was something she didn’t want to bring up.

“What is it?” You tried not to sound annoyed, taking a deep breath afterwards.

Carol stayed quiet for a while, and you could hear her light a cigarette, “Your mom’s been calling, says there’s something she wants to ask. It’s been four months, I can only cover for you for so long, kid.”

You ran your tongue over your teeth, thinking, “Right, yeah, I’ll call her.” You paused as your stomach dropped at the thought of that conversation.

“Call her now, please?”

“Yes, I’ll call her now,” You smirked assuredly, even though she couldn’t see it, “That it?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” She released a breath, blowing smoke into the phone, “I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.”

“Yeah,” You set the phone back on its hook, as Maul lazily wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You took a deep breath.

“Who was that?” His voice was always so smooth. You were jealous that he never seemed to wake up with a scratched-up throat. Maul rested his aching head on your shoulder, burying his face in your neck to avoid the kitchen lights.

“Uh,” You started dialing the phone number you still knew by heart, but paused to respond, “Just Carol. I got to, uh,” You spun the next number on the rotary dial, “Just gotta make a quick call.”

Finally, pressing the phone to your ear, you heard the dial tone connecting you to the line.

“Oh, yeah?” Maul grinned against your neck, and his hands started to wander “What if I-,”

“It’s important,” You stated firmly, shrugging the hungover man off of you, “Just gimme like, two minutes.”

Maul waved at a hand at you as he rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’m just gonna take a cold shower, then.”

You looked down to the telephone, as he spun to walk down the hallway.

Your heart beat so loudly in your chest that you could hear it in your ears, only being drowned out by the steady dial tone. It seemed to last forever.

The sound of the other phone being picked up made you smile just a bit. Maybe you missed your mom more than you thought. Hearing her voice now seemed like something you needed.

“Adan Dooku residence.” You felt the warm swelling in your heart pop at the low voice that answered.

You cleared your throat, “Adan, uh, is Diane there? I just want-,”

He grumbled, “Darling? Your daughter is on the phone,” He dropped his voice, “… _for once_.” You could hear the grimace on his face through his tone, “ _Please_ try not to worry your _mother_ any more than she already is. You’ve caused us enough grief.”

You scratched your neck with a dry smile, “I’m sure you’re real torn up over me.”

Adan didn’t reply. You sat in silence for another minute, until the phone is handed to your mother, “Honey? Is everything ok? Are you alright? How have you been?” Immediately, she is bombarding you with worried questions.

You laughed softly, “Mom, I’m fine. I’ve just been busy, I guess. Sorting things out and all.”

There was a sigh of relief on both ends of the line, before your Mom continued, “Carol says that you don’t work in the shop much anymore. Have you been traveling? She says you’re rarely home.”

“Um, yeah, we’ve been going around,” You furrow your brow, “Mom, did Carol tell you what I’ve been doing?”

“What? Oh, do you have a new job? I’m so happy for you, honey.” You hadn’t heard her ‘proud-mom’ voice in years.

“Well, I’m in a band.” You offered, testing the waters.

“Oh,” She faltered for a moment, “Well, I’m sure its great! All that matters is that your happy, honey-bun. How long have you been doing that for?”

“A little while,” Nearly three years, you thought. You shook your head, “Anyway, um, Carol seemed to think you had something you needed?”

“Oh, how could I get forget?!” She suddenly beamed, “Your step-brother! He graduated last month, I tried to see if you wanted to come to the graduation, but you probably would have been too busy, anyway.”

You heard Asajj pounding on the bathroom door, so you covered your other ear.

“But, now that I have you… Will you come visit for a bit? Even just to see Obi-wan? Your aunt already said that she would come with you.”

“Oh, I don’t know if-,” You started.

“If you want, you could even bring your friends,” She offered, thinking for a second, “You could find somewhere to do a concert or something.”

A door opened and slammed shut, “Jesus, Maul, can you put some fucking pants on?” You cringed when Asajj shouted down the hallway. You looked over at her sharply, accosting her with your eyes.

“Yeah, mom, sure, I’ll come for a bit, but I think it’ll just be me and Carol. The guys aren’t gonna wanna come-,” Your eyes grew when you looked down the hallway again.

Walking towards you was Maul, and he was wearing nothing except for the towel slung over his shoulder, “Wait, I’ll come for you.” He grinned at you, and your face turned beet-red which was not a color you usually turned.

“You don’t even- ugh,” You shook your head, “Yeah, ok, I’ll talk to them, alright? I just gotta go, ma.”

“Oh, ok, honey.” She sounded let-down, but feigned an unbothered tone, “I’ll just have Carol help me plan then. I’ll see you in a little while, then.”

“Yeah, bye, mom.”

You hung up the phone, and spun around to face Maul, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What? Chill out,” Maul laughed at the tough expression on your face, “Where am I coming?”

You were about to say something, but shook your head, distracted by his appearance, “Will you _please_ put some clothes on. _Then,_ we can talk.”

Maul shrugged, heading off to the heap of laundry that had collected in the living room.

Savage walked out of the Hallway and looked at you silently.

“I’m gonna lose my fucking mind, man.”

**_Cause I'm stranded on my own, stranded far from home._ **


End file.
